Beyond The Vale

by Brian D. Anderson

  That night, sleep did not come easily. He kept imagining Hanna crying from an empty stomach, her life in ruins. If only there were a way to take her with him. But that was a ridiculous idea. There would be no way to explain why without telling the truth. And while she was kind, he doubted she would look favorably upon a man sent to usher in the defeat of her people.

  Tomorrow. Yes. He had to end this tomorrow.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The scent of spices and freshly squeezed fruit juice roused Drake from a light sleep. He enjoyed the mornings with Hanna; the way she went on about her plans for the day with anticipation was often childlike. That she could take joy in the mundane was a stark contrast to most people he knew. He had hoped this morning to leave before Hanna was up, intent on sneaking his sword out without her noticing, but it was not to be.

  He entered the kitchen to find Gymal just finishing his breakfast. If he was hung over from the whisky, it didn’t show. He gave Drake a tight-lipped smile and a curt nod, then kissed his aunt goodbye.

  “I wish he would learn to be happy,” said Hanna.

  “He’s young. Give him time. At his age, it’s hard to appreciate what you have.”

  “There are times I wish he could go to be with his father,” she remarked shaking her head. “Then he could see how much he has here.”

  She had remarked on a few occasions that her brother, a man named Hulton Gorlan, might do well to have family nearby. In fact, he might have considered allowing his son to join him had his daughter not died of a fever the previous year, making Gymal his last surviving child.

  “Have you ever thought about leaving the city? You could be with your brother.”

  “Oh, I’m too old for that. I enjoy my little comforts too much. By the time it’s livable out there, I’ll be long gone.”

  Drake ate his breakfast while Hanna told him about her trip to see her brother on Gymal’s behalf. From what she said, she had not lied to her nephew about making a genuine effort, though was admittedly happy he’d said no.

  Drake helped with the dishes before returning to his room and getting cleaned up. He wrapped his sword in a cloth and strapped it to his back. It protruded slightly, but was not too noticeable once he put on his jacket. If the day went well, he would likely leave everything else behind. Trains left in the evenings. And he had enough coin to buy food and water, though he was concerned that if there was too much of a disturbance, the train would stop running. If so, he’d be forced to either wait and risk discovery or brave the desert on foot.

  The streets were rather busy, as was typical in the morning so close to both the power plant and the Imperium, though as he went further north, this changed dramatically. The buildings were in poor repair and the few pedestrians about looked sickly, many coughing and wheezing as they trudged along the walkway.

  It took nearly an hour to reach the outermost structure. Beyond was a single road that snaked into a rocky terrain dotted with enormous boulders and thorny brambles. Drake took a long look before running over to the right, keeping a fair distance from any potential travelers.

  The sun shone brightly, no longer obscured by the constant haze of the power plant and chimneys. But rather than hotter, strangely the air felt considerably cooler. After a mile or so, Drake stopped to unwrap his sword. He still had the revolver tucked in his belt, but hoped not to use it, at least not until he was ready to leave. Though if what he intended to do was successful, the sound of gunfire would be a whisper by comparison.

  Eventually he spotted a tall metal fence that stretched for several hundred yards in both directions. Near the road were six men with rifles, though they did not appear to be on alert – rather they were lazing under a cloth pavilion just inside a gate.

  He ducked out of sight behind a large rock. Through the fence he could see that the road ended at a cylindrical brick building, around which at least a dozen more guards were standing.

  On either side were a few smaller buildings and a post where a few horses were tied off. As far as he could tell, there was only one entrance, which meant he’d need to draw the guards away.

  He backed off until he was sure no one could see him, then moved around the perimeter.

  On the back side was another building and a few empty wagons, but no guards.

  Drake settled in and waited.

  As the sun waned, one of the guards began hanging lanterns on hooks in the walls of the buildings. A few people had come and gone from the main structure, but otherwise, activity had been minimal. It wasn’t until the night had fallen completely that three wagons arrived. Two bore replacements for the guards and the third carried half a dozen people dressed in long red coats who entered the main building, an equal number emerging a short time later.

  Drake waited until the guards were at ease, talking and passing a bottle. It was clear that despite their number, security was not a concern. Though why would it be? Who would come out here? From what he had learned, Bomar were not in rebellion. They would stay away from a place like this.

  Drake silently slipped over the fence and crept toward the rear building. He could hear the guards’ conversation clearly now. They were discussing their time on the frontier – boasts of heroism, mostly about how many Nelwyn they’d killed.

  “Glad to be out of there,” said a gravely older-sounding voice.

  “Are you crazy?” said another. “At least there you weren’t standing around all night doing nothing. Besides, the Nelwyn aren’t so tough. All they have are sticks and rocks.”

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, boy. Those sneaky bastards killed a dozen of my friends. Came out of nowhere, they did. And believe me, getting killed with a stick ain’t no better than getting shot. You’re just as dead.”

  If Lenora is teaching them, the Bomar will be facing more than sticks.

  Drake reached the rear building and removed the lantern from the wall. He opened the cap at its base and poured a bit of the liquid that fueled it on the door, then laid it on its side. He had barely stepped back when it ignited. Too fast! And the wood was drier than anticipated. The whooshing of flames and the flash of light silenced the guards for a moment, but was quickly followed by shouts of alarm.

  Drake bolted for the fence full tilt. Once back under cover of darkness, he dove to his stomach. The soldiers were just standing there, doing nothing.

  “Should we try to put it out?” said one. “With what? Our water bottles?”

  The soldiers at the gate came running up a minute later. This was working even better than Drake had hoped. One of the men pointed to the lantern, blaming the previous guard for not securing it properly. Drake’s adrenaline had his muscles twitching. He scrambled to his feet and quickly spanned the fifty yards to the entrance. So long as their attention was on the fire, he would be fine. He’d worry about getting out later.

  The relief of reaching his target was replaced by panic as he pulled at the handle. Locked. But after another desperate yank, realized it was just stuck. One more hard pull and it groaned open, and he hurried inside. Pushing the door shut, he spun around, his hand already reaching for his sword. But there was no one there. It was an empty room without so much as a proper floor. In the center was a hole barely large enough for him to fit, with a ladder affixed to the side, from which he could make out faint voices. He could see that the shaft descended about twenty feet to a rough stone floor.

  After climbing down, Drake found himself in a narrow passage, that judging by the jagged walls, irregular shape, and uneven floor, had been formed naturally. The vex crystal in his chest tingled and pulsed, confirming his suspicions. He had felt it before in a cavern in Vale where the crystals were harvested. To the best of his knowledge, they were safe enough while still in the ground. It was only when they were removed they became unstable.

  He unsheathed his sword and continued on. The passage sloped sharply down for about fifty feet before leveling off again. His chest was on fire, throbbing with mana. At the e
nd he came to a massive cavern whose walls and ceiling were completely covered in vex crystal formations and hundreds more protruding from the floor. To his right were four tables topped with various unfamiliar implements being handled be hunched figures in red coats, oblivious to anything aside from their work. The glow from the crystals negated the need for lanterns, making the cavern a uniquely warm and pleasing environment. Another passage was situated at the far side, this one looking to have been carved artificially.

  None of the people appeared to be armed, so he figured it would be a simple matter to subdue them. Drake was about to rush in when something caught his eye: a cage, just beyond the tables. Inside were three Nelwyn. Their clothes were tattered and stained, their faces thin, and their eyes sunken from neglect. Two were quite young, both male and barely in their teens, though the third, a woman, was far older. The way she held them close suggested they were family. A mother and her children, perhaps? What were the Bomar doing with them? Experiments of some sort? His anger flared as he imagined what horrors the Nelwyn were being subjected to.

  You didn’t come to rescue Nelwyn. Stay focused. What would you do with them? March them through the city in full view and hope you could get them on the train without anyone noticing?

  But as the ragged and beaten expressions on their faces nagged at his gut, he knew that didn’t matter. Regardless how cold and ruthless being a hawker had made him, he could not leave children to die. He certainly couldn’t face Lenora knowing he had. The memory of meeting Linx for the first time flashed through his mind, and he groaned inwardly.

  You’re just a soft-hearted idiot. You know that, don’t you?

  He sheathed his blade and pulled out the pistol. After a deep breath, he stepped from the passage and cleared his throat.

  The four men and two women all turned, with annoyed expressions.

  “Are you stupid, bringing a gun in here?” said a tall woman with shoulder-length red hair. She squinted, then cocked her head. “You’re not a soldier. What the hell are you doing down here? Who let you in?”

  “Unless you want to get shot, you’ll be quiet and do as I say.”

  Two of the group laughed, not taking the threat seriously. But the red-haired woman slowly raised her hands.

  “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here,” she said, her tone cold and even. “But if you want to live, you’ll turn around and leave now. You have no idea what a mistake you’re making.”

  “I think I do,” said Drake. “More than you, I bet. You have any idea about the power you’re playing with?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “Now open the cage and release the Nelwyn.”

  She affected a confused expression. “The Nelwyn? You’re here for them? They’re savages.

  Not even proper people.”

  His anger grew. “I’ll give you ten seconds to let them go.” “I can’t.”

  “Are you willing to bet your life on that?” He leveled his weapon, aiming for her right shoulder, though from the angle she would think it aimed at her heart.

  “You don’t understand,” she shot back, now sounding nervous. “If they leave, this entire place will explode.”

  Drake furrowed his brow. “Why is that?”

  Before she could answer a man on the far table reached down and produced a revolver. The woman turned and leapt in front of him, arms wide.

  “Yarl, no!” she screamed.

  Drake ducked left as the deafening shot rang out, reverberating from the walls. The bullet slammed into the woman’s stomach, sending her doubling over. Drake returned fire, hitting his assailant between the eyes. The man stood stunned for a brief second and then collapsed in a heap. The rest of the group ran to the wall, huddling in terror. The woman dropped to one knee, clutching at the wound that, though masked by the red coloring of her coat, was already spilling

  blood onto the floor. Drake kept his weapon aimed at the others as he hurried to her side.

  She recoiled as he knelt. “Get away from me.” “Let me look,” he said, firmly. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Reluctantly, she complied. The bullet had passed through on the lower left side of the abdomen. Survivable, if the bleeding was stopped in time.

  Drake stood and crossed over to the body of the man he’d killed and unceremoniously tore off his coat. Tossing it to a short man with a balding head who looked too terrified to be any trouble, he waved him toward the wounded woman.

  “Apply pressure to both sides until the bleeding stops,” he ordered. The man hesitated. “Now!”

  At this prompting, he ran over and did as he was told.

  He then directed his attention to the second woman. “You. Open the cage.”

  The Nelwyn had crammed themselves into the corner, the mother clutching the children to her breast.

  The woman retrieved a key from a small metal box on the table. “You can’t do this.” “Watch me.”

  “You don’t understand. If they leave, the crystals will explode.”

  “She speaks the truth,” said the older Nelwyn. “They keep us here to prevent it.” “You see?”

  Drake snatched the key away and gestured for the red-haired woman to return to the others. “Are you saying you are keeping them stable? How?”

  “They’re connected to the Mother,” the Nelwyn replied. “When they’re ripped from her bosom, we can keep their solas at bay.”

  “You do this all by yourself?”

  She shook her head and then nodded toward the second passage. “There are more of us through there.”

  “Can they travel?”

  “Yes. But I must ask: You are Bomar. Why are you trying to save us?” “I’m not Bomar.”

  This drew confused stares from both the Nelwyn and the Bomar. “I was sent here by your people to stop them.”

  She regarded him suspiciously. “But you look Bomar. And you speak Bomar.” “We can argue about it, or I can help you and your people get out of here.”

  She looked down at the children who were staring fearfully at Drake. “Very well.”

  Drake unlocked the cage and allowed the Nelwyn to exit. “Are there more Bomar anywhere in the cavern?”

  She shook her head. “They keep only mothers and children, to ensure we do as we’re told and don’t try to get away, so they don’t need many guards.”

  Drake cast the Bomar an accusing look. They were using a mother’s love to keep the Nelwyn compliant. The thought sent fresh waves of fury coursing through him. Somehow the Nelwyn’s ability with mana could prevent the vex crystal from exploding. Which was how the Bomar were able to manipulate the crystals without killing themselves. That ended now.

  He directed the Bomar into the cage and turned to the Nelwyn. “Go get your people.” She looked to her children, placing a reassuring hand on their shoulders. “Wait here.”

  Drake examined the tables once she was down the passage. There were hundreds of crystals scattered about, most too small to be dangerous, though a dozen or so were definitely being kept stable by the Nelwyn, ranging in size from an egg to larger than a man’s fist. He gathered these together at the table’s edge, then turned to the cage.

  “Are there more?” When no one answered, he said: “Unless you want them to explode with you in here, I’d speak up.”

  “No,” replied the uninjured woman. “It takes weeks to cut them loose, and longer to chip them down. We send the smaller shards to the Imperium.”

  He examined the tools they had been using. Though with many he could not divine their purpose, some were obviously cutting and grinding implements. There were also tiny chisels and hammers laid in neat rows, along with magnifying glasses and clasps to hold the crystals in place. How did they expect to work with vex crystals with such primitive tools? In Vale they would be

  removed using a mana drill then placed in a special container that would shape it to whatever size required, depending on the intended use. Mostly they were ground to a fine powder. But to hack away at them with hammers…he was amazed that th
e Bomar hadn’t destroyed themselves. It was like a child playing with a gun.

  The Nelwyn returned a few minutes later with ten more of her kin. Three were adults, two were roughly the same age as the first two children – early teens – but the rest were very young. All of them looked half-starved and filthy. Drake moaned, rubbing the back of his neck. How in the hell was he going to do this?

  “Do any of you know a way out of the city?” he asked, not expecting an answer.

  “Through the desert is the only way,” said the Nelwyn woman, waving the children to her

  side.

  It would take more than a week to cross on foot. Alone, it would be nearly impossible; with this many, particularly children, it was suicide. There was only one way. And the likelihood of success was slim. But first they would need to get out of there.

  “How much control do you have over the crystals?” asked Drake. “None. We do not control them.”

  “But you’re stopping them from releasing their mana, right?” When she looked at him confused, he said: “Their solas. You stop it from being released?

  “Yes.”